A/N: Love to signofthetimes, CB and reviewers.
I am so, so sorry this took so long, y'all. Things here are extremely
chaotic right now, and I'm not in the best place in some ways. But
hopefully regular updates will commence soon, so let's keep our
fingers crossed, all right?
Sose sometimes had mild premonitions about things, never more than a slight sense of yes or no, good or bad. She'd had one when her labour with Anu had started, as a sickly moon had risen over the mountains and her stomach had started to heave and ache. She'd pressed her hands to it and known that the child would live, and so would she.
She'd had another the day the Dementors had attacked Malfoy Manor. She'd woken that day and knew, lying in her bed, that her son was in danger. How she had known she couldn't rightly say, and mostly it didn't bother her.
When she touched the letter, she'd had one. They had done it, though what it was she also couldn't have said, just slit the wax with her little knife and sat down to read it.
"Dear Nene,
We signed the papers today, and Romania took the vow. I miss you. Kiss Yana for me, and yourself as well.
Love you,
Anu."
Sose smoothed the letter, proud that they'd done it, proud that she could read about it all on her own. A noise made her raise her head and survey her small household; Barty and Edric, Yana and the elves, Goose the dog. Her son was missing, and Vaike Kask, but most of the people she loved were there, and that, too, was good.
Yana normally didn't live at Castle Borev, not full time. She'd asked to stay whilst her intended and Vaike were gone, and Sose had agreed at once, glad of the company, pleased that her son's fiancée liked to be with her, with them. As it was, Yana was entertaining Barty, telling him a story about something that had happened.
Beside Barty, Edric was talking softly. He saw her looking at him and laughed, waving. She waved back. She wished Eugenia could have this, her baby's smiles and words and happy presence.
'Are they coming home soon, Nene?'
'I think they are, Yana.'
Yana nodded. She looked older now, physically and emotionally, older than she should. 'Our wolves will come back, then.'
'They will.'
She nodded again. 'Can we check the goats soon, Nene?'
'I would like that.'
The two ladies, one large and one smaller, left the gentlemen in the hall and went to the pen. The goats were frisking, the new billy lording over them all, munching some grass. He bleated once to greet them and then went back to his munching unconcerned with their petty human concerns.
'The kids are so big now!'
'They are.' Sose had given Yana charge of one of them, a sweet little speckled male. He came toward them on spindly legs, Apples beside him. Yana cooed delightedly, stroking the kid's velvet ears.
It would be a fair, hot day. Sose saw the gardener elf and his helpers toting a line of buckets toward the vegetable gardens, passing another group carrying baskets laden with produce, including some deliciously plump morel mushrooms from the forest outside the walls.
Yana shaded her eyes, squinting gravely. 'There will be berries soon.'
'I think so.'
An elf came toward them, bowing. 'Mistress Sose, there is a visitor from Professor Snape.'
Sose supposed it was Sirius Black, and felt her pulse rate ascending. She couldn't very well keep Yana with her, lest the animagus's secret get out. On the other hand, she couldn't be alone with a man, either.
'Yana, why don't you go and see if the priest will hear your lessons for this week.'
Yana looked startled but nodded. 'Is something wrong, Nene?'
'It might be a political thing. What the elf said.'
Yana knew about politics. 'I'll see you later, then.' She embraced Sose and trotted toward the chapel, quite as brisk and business-like as her mother.
It was indeed Sirius. Elf by her side (Barty had taken Edric for his daily walk about the courtyards, and to play with the goats) Sose greeted him, feeling hot blood rush to her cheeks.
'Ron Weasley arrived safely in London this morning, madam. Then things got complicated.'
He summed up what had happened. Sose sat down, trying to make sense of things she would never have thought she'd understand. 'He hit him to send the children a message?'
'I don't understand it either. I honestly think he hit him because he's a maniac, but what do I know?'
Sose shook her head. 'No. I mean, I think you do. Know. I mean, I think you know as well as anyone.'
'Thank you. Hermione tells me the Weasley kid's got a good head on his shoulders. For his sake, I hope that's true.'
'All he's got to do is pretend to be Ivan. Right?'
'In theory. In practice, I expect he'll have to be able to fool the Dark Lord for quite a long time. They're sending Alecto to instruct him.'
'She's bad, isn't she?'
'A sadist and a child abuser.'
'She beat Hermione.'
'You've heard the story as well?'
'Drago mentioned it once. She made her bleed.' Drago had told her about all the Death Eaters allied against them, and she had feared her son, or the others, might run afoul of this terrifying woman when they'd left for Britain.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair. 'A lot of people will bleed before this is over.'
'I'm sorry.'
'So am I. Sometimes I wish Reg were alive so I could kill him all over again for involving himself with this.'
'He was young. You both were.'
'I know. I was talking to Anu about this situation a few days ago.'
'Oh. Is it...did something happen?' Her stomach twisted anxiously.
'No. No, he's all right. I was trying to convince him not to fight.'
'Did you?'
He laughed softly, shaking his head. 'When he makes up his mind, it stays made up, doesn't it?'
'He's stubborn. My son. He gets it from my brother Ermir. He died when he was sixteen. My brother.'
'I'm sorry to hear that.'
'Thank you.'
She wished she were clever at finding things to discuss. It struck her as morbid to discuss their lost kin, no matter how much she'd loved Ermir, who'd been ten years older, and died when a troll had raided their small flock. His homemade spear had been no match for the troll's club.
'What's he going to…is there a plan yet?'
'Not that I know of. Once the troops get here we'll have a better idea.'
Sose nodded gravely. 'You'll watch him? If you want to. I mean, ah,-'
The man extended a hand. 'I will do everything I can. And Anu is a tough kid. I think he'll be fine.'
Sose looked at the table, blood rushing to her face. 'All right.'
She could sense Sirius shifting restively. 'Madam Tamm?'
Slowly, Sose lifted her head. 'Mr. Black?'
'I wish…what if I could teach you some things? About self-defense, I mean. It seems to me…you might feel…a bit less…' He was strangely hesitant in his speech, and a very fine wash of colour was marking his cheeks. Sose had once had a single sip of a fizzy drink that was something muggles liked; her feeling now, seeing it, was a little like that, like little bubbles were floating inside her.
'Alise is. Teaching me. Don't trouble yourself.'
'It wouldn't be…I used to help teach a special class for witches' self-defense. If you want to, I mean.'
'I would. You really don't mind?'
'Not at all. And if I ever make you…uncomfortable…all you need do is say and I'll stop.'
Sose did something unspeakably bold, even bolder than kicking Alin Turgurlan had been (he'd been drunk, and she was stronger than she looked, and quicker to boot). She looked Sirius Black in the eyes and asked for his word.
'I swear on the shade of my mother, I will never hurt you or scare you on purpose.'
She finally dropped her eyes, nodding silently, tears prickling her eyes for no reason. Those happy-bubbles still sang inside her, and when she alone, another strange, bold thing happened. Sose sat down in a chair, covered her face with her apron, and laughed for sheer….something.
In Sofia, Kreacher was not laughing. No, indeed. He was dusting the Mistress's frame and having a good gossip. 'Kreacher thinks that Minister is really very common and vulgar, Mistress.'
'How so, Kreacher?'
Kreacher sniffed, snobbery undulled by his advancing years. 'She wears rouge, Mistress. And her hair looks dyed to Kreacher.'
'You don't say. And my niece?'
'Young Mistress is very well. Kreacher gave her phials yesterday.'
'For what?'
'One nutrient, one Pepper-up and one for her bones, Mistress.'
'Her bones?'
Black ladies often suffered from weak bones as they aged, and as much as the young Mistress fought, Kreacher was determined to make sure her bones stayed strong. Mistress seemed to approve, and they spoke at length about minor considerations.
'So my niece and nephew will return soon, Kreacher?'
'Tomorrow, Mistress. Then Master Draco will go to Sweden and Norway the day after, and Master and young Mistress will look for answers about dragons.'
'Dragons?'
Kreacher explained about the dragons. He was displeased by this whole notion, and had made that clear with his various noises and expressions. Young Mistress was oddly inured to both, and Master had simply snorted and then serenely ignored it all. Clearly, further house-elf training was called for here, and soon.
'Bellatrix's daughter is doing rather well at this. Doesn't surprise me. Bellatrix was the smartest baby I ever saw.'
'Kreacher remembers.'
Mistress looked pensive, frowning slightly. 'Still, watch them. I won't have the girl fried like a kipper, do you hear me? She's to continue our line.'
'And Master Sirius, Mistress.'
'Sirius particularly. Still, I venture the girl will give us a baby before he does. Always was a bit on a lackadaisical side, Sirius.'
Kreacher squared his shoulders. 'Mistress, Kreacher will make sure that doesn't happen.'
'I've every faith in your cunning, Kreacher.'
He bowed, pleased. He had faith in his cunning too.
Durmstrang was as it had been. That terrible Longbottom woman was being kept in her room (still, Kreacher hissed at the closed door as he went by, on principle). The Bulgarians were cloistered in the Master and Mistress's room, all inelegantly draped across various surfaces, debating the latest happenings.
'So Drago will go as emissary with two wolves to serve as bodyguards. Viktor and I will go back to Bulgaria in time to receive this first batch of troops. Luan will have the Albanians transport the necessary documents and scrolls to Sofia and then we'll get people working on that. Pavel?'
'The wolves are prepared for training, my lady. We have our lieutenants ready to command similarly sized companies of foreign aurors. The camps are nearly set, provisions are stocked and we've formed a de facto officers' school headed by the usual suspects.'
All of them chuckled at the sally. Pavel waited for the laughter to stop before he spoke again. 'I would also like to make a proposal, by your lordship's leave.'
'Please do.'
'Many of my men have specialized skills. Costin Galca is a forger of some note, for instance. Sandru Istok is an expert in funneling cash to various enterprises, Eugen Arco is the best scout I know, and so forth.'
'It seems expedient to me to train others in these same skills, should something happen to my men.'
Mistress was nodding slowly. 'You mean the aurors?'
'And yourselves as well, my lady. I see no reason Mr. Ismaili wouldn't have the makings of a good…banker, for example. Once everyone was trained in some skill, it would be possible for those people to train others, in addition to the foreign aurors.'
'My lord and I are training with a private tutor, Mr. Pavel, but I'm sure the others would welcome your instruction.'
'I would' said Master Paavo Kask. Master Enver Vata agreed, and Mistress Vaike Kask, and both Scabiors. Kreacher nodded once, stiffly. 'Kreacher would, if Master and Mistress agreed.'
Mistress beamed. 'Kreacher, that's lovely. Mr. Pavel, you wouldn't object, would you?'
'Not at all.'
Kreacher nodded again, eyes narrowing. He wasn't terribly fond of the whole idea of wolves, but this one seemed to him less objectionable than he might be. Somewhat, he amended, as he didn't like that slutty blonde woman the wolf kept company with.
'Kreacher could ask the other elves to do the same.'
'If no one, including the other elves, objects, Kreacher, I would feel fine with that. My lord?'
'Precisely so.'
The others finished their discussions and drifted out, aside from Master Draco, who plopped down. 'I've a bit of an idea.'
'Oh, dear.'
'Hush, Hermione. Anyhow, I was thinking I might take Anu with me, if no one minded.'
Master and Mistress both nodded. 'He would like that.'
'And I think it might add to our case. He's a lord in his own right, for one, and a war hero. I'm afraid they'll think we're skimping, if only I go.'
'You're a war hero, and our sensechal. And the Swedes and Norwegians don't have nobility.'
'I know. Anu's also very keen on ships, so that might help as well. The sailors loved him.'
Mistress smiled a bit. 'It's good for Anu to be able to help, as well.'
'I think so too.'
'Send an elf to ask Aunt Sose before you ask him, won't you?'
'Already did. She's fine with it.'
Kreacher made a face. He didn't want Master Anu to go, or Master Draco. He wanted them safe with him, where he could watch. He wanted all of them, including their parents and Master Sirius, in Sofia, and not gadding about making dangerous deals with slippery foreigners and potentially being hurt somehow.
'Is everything all right, Kreacher?'
'No, Mistress.'
'What's wrong?'
'Kreacher does not like this idea. Master Anu is very young. All of you are very young. Kreacher wishes Master Rumen would go, or Master Penko, or even Mistress Lyudmilla.'
'It would offend them if we did that, Kreacher. And neither of those countries are hostile to us.'
'That Master knows of. We didn't think Master Horace Slughorn would hurt children, but he has. He would again.'
Master reached up and gently took his hand, startling Kreacher deeply. 'We're sending wolves, Kreacher, good ones. They'll be well protected.'
'Kreacher knows the wolves mean well. Kreacher is afraid the Swedes and Norwegians might be trying to play Britain and Bulgarian off one another.'
Master Draco shook his head. 'We've got them in a headlock, Kreacher. They need the trade from the other countries that have joined, for one. Britain has nothing to offer them like that. And if we invaded them, Britain is hardly going to send them aid.'
Kreacher nodded slowly, not convinced. 'Master Draco, young people do not always understand how dangerous things are. Kreacher is old. Kreacher worries.'
Master Draco stood up so he was at eye level with Kreacher. 'We've faced worse things and lived, Kreacher. Besides, you're helping us by helping Snape and Sirius.'
'Thank you, Master Draco.'
'Is that everything, Kreacher?' Mistress smiled at him and he smiled back. He had so missed having young people to love.
No, Kreacher wanted to say, not even close. He wanted to tell them how much he worried about them, and how badly he wanted things to work out. He couldn't, though. He was a house elf, so all he did was bow and say nothing about his worries.
In a strange way, though, Kreacher was actually sort of comforted by what happened at dinner. He felt as though the Universe had heard his worries and responded, if in a fashion he mightn't have chosen had it been up to him.
Which is to say that a series of events played out that finally brought some issues long of concern to the fore. It started with the meal itself, which was buffet-style. The elves had set out an informal arrangement of carved meats, cold side dishes and, for dessert, a large and delicious-looking quaking pudding.
People went through the line to get their food and then stood chatting. Kreacher himself circulated, getting drinks and listening intently should things need to be discussed later.
Master Sirius was regaling the beaming Master Anu with stories of his youth. Next to them, the Kasks were discussing something about trolls with Master Luan Ismaili, and the Master and Mistress, with Master Draco, were speaking with the Weasleys about the political situation in Britain.
The Romanians were equally spread out, sometimes venturing to speak to the Bulgarians. Kreacher was watching them, owl-eyed to see if they'd try something. He'd sniffed everything before it was put on the table, and checked it a few times. Even Mistress's terrible cat was helping, reaching up from under the table every-so-often to hook something with his claws and give it a taste test. At least that what the beast indicated he was doing. Kreacher had his doubts, but he could tax the awful creature with them later. And he was, felt Kreacher, spending altogether too much time singing at the old woman Professor, but that was something for another day.
The first sounds of a problem brewing made Kreacher's head whip round, not an easy feat given how much his neck pained him. Master Draco was speaking, and the room was going silent.
'…are very concerned, Minister-Ministers, pardon me-about mimising collateral damage as much as possible. In the larger cities there is a sort of buffer zone between magical and muggle areas, but our smaller cities are not so fortunate. Should the Dark Lord attempt to repel us in these smaller areas, it would be a blood bath for those on the ground.'
Master Arthur Weasley opened his mouth as though to reply and then the trouble started. The Romanian under-Minister had come over, and he clamped Draco's shoulders. 'Casualties in this situation are unavoidable, lad. We mustn't lose sight of the main goal.'
Master Draco jerked free. 'Thank you, sir. I had nearly forgot that my country is being ruled by a genocidal maniac for a moment.'
'Most unfortunate, yes, but surely, a personage such as yourself must acknowledge that war is the great furnace which tempers wizards, a sort of purifying flame-'
'Purifying flames? Why don't you come with us and see for yourself what it looks like when one fires a city? Maybe listening to the screams as the people below you burn will give you some perspective.'
The room was very quiet. The under-Minister laughed in a strained, chortling kind of way. 'I don't doubt you had some bad experiences, lad, but surely the thrill of the thing-to drive one enemies before you, to crush them and hear the lamentations of their women-surely you can't deny the thrill of it?'
'The thrill of what, precisely? Watching the light fade from the eyes of my friends? Writing letters to tell their parents about the hideous way they died? Perhaps you'd prefer the thrill of using a chunk of wood to keep the rats from eating their soft parts, sir. Is that thrill you mean?'
'Collateral damage is unavoidable. What I meant was, it could prove to be a positive experience for some of those involved.'
'The winners, perhaps. What of the people on the ground, precisely? If you can tell me which part of their experience is apt to be positive, please do. The ones that don't burn or die in the fighting will starve, and troops on both sides are apt to rape if their blood is up. What part of that is positive, again?'
'The lives of a few muggles are a worthy sacrifice. The glory of-'
'GLORY? GLORY? WHAT PART OF THIS DO YOU NOT HEAR, YOU ASS? THERE IS NO FUCKING GLORY! IT'S ALL A LIE! ARE YOU THAT FUCKING STUPID?'
'How dare you, sir, question my intelligence?'
'I'M NOT QUESTIONING ANYTHING! YOU'RE FULL OF SHIT! WHY DON'T YOU TRY TELLING SOME PARENTS THEIR KIDS ARE DEAD AND WE'LL SEE HOW MUCH FUCKING FUN YOU THINK IT IS!'
The room was silent. The very air seemed to reflect a pregnant void, waiting for something to fill it, alive with the potential to turn any number of ways. Kreacher made himself invisible and floated over.
Master clapped Master Draco's shoulder. 'Drago, if you keep yelling you'll give yourself a migraine. They're expecting you in Stockholm at noon, remember?'
Master Draco took a deep, shaky breath. 'I do, actually. Think I might go and lie down.'
'All right. We'll join you in a few moments.'
Master Draco nodded. Master Sirius fell in beside him and the two left without another word. Kreacher followed them, still invisible. He watched them, vigilant to anything he might be able to help with.
When they were settled Kreacher brought calming draughts and glasses of hot milk. Master Draco downed his phial. 'That was…'
'Talk to me, kiddo.'
Master Draco shook his head. 'Nothing left to say, Sirius. I shouldn't have gone off.'
'It happens.'
'Think they're upset with me?'
'I think they know you're hurting. And you are, kid.'
'We talked about it in England.'
'Sure did. So what are we going to do about it?'
Master Draco shook his head no. 'I'm fine, Sirius.'
'No, you don't. You aren't fine.'
'There's nothing that will help.'
'How do you know?'
'How do you?'
'Because I think just about anything must be better than how you feel right now. Is that right?'
Master Draco set his jaw and crossed his arms. 'You don't know how I feel.'
'Not if you don't tell me.'
Kreacher swooped a little lower. 'Master Draco, Kreacher will see Mistress Narcissa soon. It would make Kreacher sad to have to tell her that Master Draco was being difficult.'
Master Sirius snorted. 'Subtle, Kreacher.'
'Kreacher serves the House of Black. Subtly has never entered into it.'
Master Draco smiled unwillingly. 'No need to trouble Mother, I'm sure.'
'Mistress Narcissa would want to know.'
'It would be a shame if you had a mysterious accident, Kreacher.'
'Kreacher is too crafty for that, Master Draco. Kreacher used to cause mysterious accidents.'
Master Draco tipped his head thoughtfully. 'I remember that.'
'For God's love, don't encourage him, Draco. It's all I can do to keep him from poisoning everyone who looks at him cross-eyed.'
'Actually, that might not be a bad thing.'
'Not you too, cousin!'
'No, no. I mean, since the wolves are going to start training people in…hell, we ought to call it what is it. If the wolves are starting to teach us espionage, then maybe adding poisoning to the roster wouldn't be a bad idea.'
Master Sirius blinked. 'Kiddo, that's…there's a line there.'
'I know that, Sirius. But it might come down to that. Snape won't always be able to do it for us, and we can't have show trials for every person who might…need a drink.'
Kreacher could smell Master Sirius's feelings, a mixture of grief and fear. 'Kiddo…I hate to see you need to do that. I hate that Kreacher had to do that, even.'
'Kreacher didn't mind, Master Sirius.'
'There's a surprise. Still, it's not…'
'No. But he knows, and we might need that knowledge.'
Master Sirius nodded. He seemed very tired, older now. 'I'll support that if-'
Kreacher shook his head. 'No. Kreacher won't do it.'
Both men stared at him. 'Kreacher?'
'If someone needs a drink, Kreacher will give it to them. It's not for wizards and witches to do.'
'We did it to Blagoev.'
'Kreacher didn't like that, either, but a show trial is different. If someone needs to be done away with in secret, then elves should do it.'
'What if we asked Hermione about your training the other elves? Niska or Blixo or someone?'
'Only if Kreacher gets a promise that the others won't teach any of the masters or mistresses.'
Master Draco looked very startled to say the least. Kreacher suspected he had never had an elf flatly refuse him anything like this. He nodded slowly and reached for Kreacher's hand.
'I shouldn't have assumed, Kreacher. I'm sorry.'
Kreacher let him take his hand, withered and cold in the lad's bigger, warm one. 'Master Draco, Kreacher will do anything you ask, except teach you things that will hurt you.'
'I didn't…I don't want to hurt anyone, Kreacher. But it seems wrong to me to demand the wolves do our dirty work for us. They're men, not animals, I know that now.'
Kreacher sighed. 'Master Draco, your heart is in the right place. But Kreacher has lost Master Regulus, and Master Sirius to doing what was right. Kreacher would rather do what's wrong to save our family.'
Master Draco wiped his eyes. 'Me, too.'
Master Sirius slid an arm about Master Draco and to Kreacher's utter shock, about him as well, mindful of his warped spine. 'Enough, the both of you. Snape and I will make this work. Just concentrate on Sweden and Norway, and don't let Anu climb anything.'
'He hasn't done that in a while.'
'Because he's not had the chance. He depends on you to remind him not to be daft about things.'
'I'm the perfect role model in that, surely.'
'Better than I am, anyway.'
'That isn't hard, Master Sirius.'
'And you wonder why I called you a manky little plonker that time.'
'Poor old Kreacher! Poor, faithful old Kreacher!'
'Please, you're hale as a twenty year old.'
'Oh, poor Kreacher! Kreacher has a bad heart!'
'He's been saying that for decades.'
'It's true!'
'No, it isn't.'
'Is!'
'Not.'
'Is! The old Mistress would be heartbroken to see loyal Kreacher treated this way!'
This would likely have gone on for some time had Master not poked his head in. 'Again, Kreacher?'
'Always, Master.'
'I must avoid irking you, then.'
'Kreacher recommends it, Master.'
Master Draco stood up. 'Take a walk with me?'
'That sounds nice.' The door closed and they went off together, speaking softly.
Master Sirius was gnawing a thumbnail, looking pensive. 'Kreacher?'
'Master Sirius?'
'I, er…well firstly, you mustn't tell Mother. Do you swear?'
'Kreacher swears.' He leant forward, intent on knowing this secret. He had always been able to read Master Sirius (and Master Regulus, for that matter) like a book. Whatever this was, it was quite an important thing.
'I, ah…I'm going to teach Madam Tamm some self-defense.'
Kreacher waited for the rest. Nothing was forthcoming. He gave Master Sirius a sharp, gimletty glare. 'Master Sirius?'
'What?'
'Is that polite?'
Master Sirius clenched his jaw for a moment. 'I'm sorry. I mean, beg pardon?'
'Better. What else is there? Master Sirius is holding something back from Kreacher.'
'She's a very fine lady, Kreacher.'
Kreacher got it. 'Ah.'
'There is no 'ah'. I just wanted you to know…know.'
'Yes, Master Sirius.'
'Don't you give me that! All I meant is, I wish she weren't afraid all the time.'
'Yes, Master Sirius.'
Master Sirius huffed. 'I don't know why I try!'
Kreacher chuckled too softly for a human to hear. 'Kreacher likes Mistress Sose as well.'
'Good. That's bloody wonderful.' Master Sirius drew his mouth up sourly and glared at no particular point in the room.
Kreacher smiled a little. 'Kreacher thinks so.'
